


Ladykiller

by foursweaterests



Category: 2 Broke Girls
Genre: 2 Broke Girls AU, F/F, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2011-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-27 21:56:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/300469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foursweaterests/pseuds/foursweaterests
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“All my fault?  I’m not the one who told Oleg he should tinker more with the menu to “bring in top-level clientele”!  Where do you think we are, the Hilton?  Actually, with that color hair you must fit in with Paris and Nikki no problem,” Max said.</p><p>“Will you stop with the Hilton jokes already?  Besides, they already act like they’ve eaten the Russian Sausage.”  Caroline winced, setting the shotgun on the ground.  “God, if we’re going to talk about it any more we’ve got to change that name.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ladykiller

**Author's Note:**

  * For [possibilityleft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/possibilityleft/gifts).



> **A/N:** I…I tried for fluff. Honestly. This is what came out. Apparently, to me, “fluff” and “curtainfic” means “Grab the shotguns, honey!”  
>  **Warnings:** Aggressive come-ons that get shot down, stereotyping, references to bad parenting, off-screen zombies and guns.
> 
> I tried to write in the characters' voices as much as possible without being as problematic as the show. I really hope I succeeded in the latter part. If you feel I need to warn for anything else, please drop me a note.
> 
> Massive thanks to Scott and Alicia, both of whom volunteered to read this over for me at the VERY last minute and assured me it wasn't horrendous. I ♥ you both.

“Get _down_ , Max!” Caroline screamed, and Max dove for the floor, covering her face. A blast sounded, and she felt warm, sticky goo rain down on her simultaneously. She lifted her head and looked up at Caroline who was just staring at her with that vacant expression Max had come to know so, so well.

“What? Don’t tell me you ate one of Oleg’s special sandwiches too? Seriously, if you have Creutzfeldt-Jakob’s I’ll take you out back and put you down like my mom did to every animal I brought home. And boyfriend.” Max raised an eyebrow at Caroline, brushing a Jello-like substance out of her hair. She didn’t want to think about what it actually was.

“This is all your fault!” said Caroline, glaring at Max.

“All my fault? I’m not the one who told Oleg he should tinker more with the menu to 'bring in top-level clientele'! Where do you think we are, the Hilton? Actually, with that hair you must fit in with Paris and Nikki no problem,” Max said.

“Will you stop with the Hilton jokes already? Besides, they already act like they’ve eaten the Russian Sausage.” Caroline winced, setting the shotgun on the ground. “God, if we’re going to talk about it any more we’ve got to change that name.”

“You don’t like my Hot Russian Sausage?” Oleg popped his head out from behind the counter, holding the baseball bat he’d used to bludgeon the last three customers to try the special of the day.

“Oleg, no one wants to get within a mile of that thing. Especially now that the last seven customers to order it off the specials board have come down with something akin to zombie!” Caroline said. “Now is not the time for pervy jokes; we have to get somewhere safe.”

Oleg glared at Caroline. “Now especially is the time for pervy jokes! You take away my stress outlet during stressful time? I explode!”

Oleg waved his arms around in an apparent illustration of how he would explode. He looked like one of those windcatcher men that car dealerships always used to draw in unsuspecting customers before crushing their souls, Max thought.

Max got up and put her arms out in an appeasing motion towards the both of them, who had been edging towards each other and were now standing nearly nose-to-nose. Caroline was so angry she was vibrating like a freaked-out rabbit while Oleg looked like someone who was used to killing and skinning those rabbits for a stew. Caroline was definitely the better looking of the two, Max thought. She shook her head.

“Okay, guys, I’m never the voice or reason, but clearly someone needs to take charge here since you both are acting like my mom on a bender. And one of her is enough, believe me. Caroline, go check the receipts to get a tally of how many people ordered and ate that thing. Oleg, I suggest you shut it before Caroline here goes all Manhattan on your ass,” Oleg shrugged and turned away while Caroline subtly flexed a bicep. Max _somehow_ kept from laughing, and said, “Yeah. And flush the rest of that sauce. I’m going to find Han and Earl.”

“No need, sweetness, we’re down here!” came a voice from behind Earl’s counter.

“Earl?” Max stuck her head over the barrier and looked down just as the floor opened and Earl and Han’s faces appeared, covered in what looked like years of dust and surrounded by empty straw wrappers patrons had shoved between the floorboards while they were waiting for their food.

“Hello, Max!” came Han’s ever-perky voice as he struggled to pull himself out of the hole in the floor. “We hid in the trick basement where Russians used to hide liquor and guns.” He grinned widely. “There’s still some down here.”

“What, guns? That’s awesome, Han, we can totally use more ammunition against the zombies,” Max said.

Han hiccupped. “No, liquor. It kept me strong.” He tried again to pull himself out, wiggling as he got halfway out but just fell back in again, panting.

Caroline leaned over the partition, too, pressed up against Max's side. Her hip and arm were warm, and she still smelled a little like the pomegranate shampoo she'd just had to have because it made her come out of the shower grinning and pink-cheeked. Max swallowed.

"Han, Earl, I'm so glad you're okay," Caroline said, earnest as ever. "I hope nothing fell through the floorboards when Max clubbed that one over the head with the cash register. It was pretty gruesome," she said proudly. Max fought down a smile.

Earl raised his eyebrows at Max. “Thank god there was still alcohol down here. It kept him from screaming every time he heard you gals take down another one.”

Max reached down and gave Earl a hand as he planted two hands firmly on Han's back and led him to the three stairs out of the storage space.

“Don’t worry about us, chickadee. You just grab your special lady friend over there and we’ll all make like a socialite on the train to Queens and skedaddle,” Earl said, grinning.

Max raised her chin, pretending she didn't know what he was talking about. She heard Caroline start shuffling through the receipts behind her and firmly did not look at her. Her cheeks were on fire.

“Where’s _your_ special lady friend, Earl?” Max asked.

“I got too many to just choose one, Max! Now let’s get a move on!”

***

Caroline was hunched over behind the rear wheel well of a bright purple Beetle, gesturing frantically at Max.

“What are you doing?” Max asked, hands on her hips, brand spankin' new golf club by her side. She'd pulled it out of a dead guy's head just up the street. Earl, Oleg and Han were all clustered around her, staring at Caroline. In all fairness, so was Max.

“I’m giving you the all-clear sign!” Caroline whispered loudly. She popped her head up and peered through the rear window, her bright blonde hair practically screaming, “Look at me! Eat me! There are delicious brains beneath this beautiful hair!”

“You look like you’re having a fit, is what you’re doing,” Max said, rolling her eyes fondly.

Caroline pursed her mouth and then stood up, grabbing Max by the hand and tugging her forward, away from the rest of the group. “We have to be certain that no one who’s infected is still hanging around here. It could be dangerous.” The street was deserted. It was creepy, in a Hollywood-esque sort of way, Max could admit. But not out loud.

She shrugged her eyebrows and said, “Okay, G.I. Jane. Let’s get cracking, then.”

“Good,” Caroline said. Turning to the Earl, Oleg and Han she said, “Oleg, you scout to the left. That’s where we’re headed – we need to go to the apartment to pick up extra sets of clothing. Earl, you watch our backs and Han –“ she trailed off, looking at him. “Uh. You…watch our middle. We need someone to make sure no one’s infiltrated our group.”

“You got it.” Han puffed up his chest. “I’m just the man for the job.”

Caroline and Max shared a grin. “You certainly are,” Max drawled.

They turned as one and started heading down the street, Caroline tugging Max forward and Oleg darted forward periodically, looking like an over-eager _something_ in his fur coat while Han practiced his James Bond moves and Earl looked like someone who knew what he was doing when it came to surveillance. Sometimes it was easy to believe his claims that he’d been one of the unofficial leaders of the Black Panthers.

Max looked down, concentrating on not kicking Han as he darted in and out of her way when something caught her attention.

“Uh, Caroline? You forgot to let go of my hand,” Max said.

Caroline glanced at her and smiled out of the corner of her mouth. “No, I didn’t.”

“Oh.” Max said. Then she giggled.

Caroline smiled.

***


End file.
